The Fade
by Shootingstar7123
Summary: Alistair seeks to free Elissa from her own fade dreams. A more dreamlike interpretation of the fade. Alistair/Cousland


The Fade

…

None of the characters, storylines, or dialogue appearing in the video game, Dragon Age: Origins, belong to me.

…

Alistair seeks to free Elissa from her own fade dreams. A more dreamlike interpretation of the fade. Alistair/Cousland

…

Alistair found himself in a bustling castle courtyard. He blinked, disoriented, and took a quick step back to avoid being run over by a harried servant. High stone walls and a flurry of activity surrounded him, but those things were of no concern. He looked for _her_.

He found her in the far corner, practicing dagger forms on a stuffed shirt that had seen better days. She whirled, swept, and cut, moving as gracefully as water and fast as lightning. With unkempt hair, soaked skin, dull practice blades and battered leathers, she'd never looked so beautiful. Her eyes sparkled as she turned and saw him, taking no issue with his sudden appearance.

She tucked away her daggers and reached out her hand, giving him a shy smile. "Come on," she said. "We have to see Fergus before he goes away." He squeezed her hand gently and followed where she led, down the corridors of Highever Castle.

She released his hand as they reached her brother's rooms, distracted by the prospect of her family. Alistair's heart ached as he watched her with them, a rare glimpse of the girl who'd died back at Highever. She'd been irrevocably changed that day. Still, he saw the teasing rapport with her brother, the shared look of worry with her sister-in-law, and the sweet and playful way she spoke to little Oren. At that moment, Alistair vowed that he would not let her relive that child's death tonight.

Her father came in and sent her off to bed, and Elissa gave Fergus one last hug. Alistair headed across the hall to what he thought was her room, but she stopped him before he opened the door.

"This way," she said, again taking his hand. "I want to show you something."

He hadn't noticed the door before, the one in the corner. There was something about it he disliked, perhaps the way the shadows played across the stone. But she kept pulling his hand.

Stairs met them, going up in a spiral. She tugged him along, looking up and ahead with eager eyes. It felt like too many turns, but at last they reached the top, a lookout over the land and the sunset sea.

She let out a deep sigh of contentment, closing her eyes as the salt breeze swept over them. She looked at Alistair, her eyes gone soft and shiny. He knew, in that moment, that he was about to kiss her.

He leaned in, feeling her tremble slightly under his hands, and then stopped as he saw movement over her shoulder.

A storm battered the waters, all churning waves and dark clouds, with threatening flashes of lightning revealing the blue of the sea beneath. He watched as if transfixed as the storm came in, filling him moment by moment with a growing sense of dread.

A crash of thunder echoed around and within him, and then he heard the clang of swords.

Alistair turned on his heel to see the ominous glow of fire lighting Elissa's face as she looked out over the tower wall. She no longer saw him, only what was below. Alistair stepped forward to see, and felt bile rising in his throat. Far below them (how far had they climbed?) Highever Castle was burning.

Elissa let out a devastating cry, and flung herself over the edge.

Alistair heard himself call her name desperately, and then he jumped, half-instinct, wondering if this would end it. He closed his eyes and prayed.

When he opened them, it was to pleasant sunlight and warmth. He blinked at the brightness, getting his bearings.

Sunshine streamed in through a large window, landing on Elissa humming softly in a rocking chair. In her arms she held a bundle that emitted a weak cry. She hushed the infant, stroking a finger down its tiny brow.

Alistair held his breath, afraid to intrude upon this moment. He might have to amend his earlier assessment, because he was sure he'd never seen her so beautiful as this. She gazed down at the baby with impossibly soft eyes, her lips curving upward into the most peaceful smile he'd ever seen upon her countenance. The baby quieted slowly at her ministrations, and she adjusted its swaddling with the deft hands of an experienced mother. She rocked in silence now, her eyes turning to the open window. The scent of andraste's grace floated on the breeze. A feeling of contentment drew up through Alistair's toes until his body was filled with it and his expression mirrored hers.

After a time, she turned back to the baby, pushing the swaddling aside to see its face. She tugged at the blanket and it fell open, revealing nothing but empty air. For a moment, her expression crumbled.

It smoothed away as quickly as it came, and she rose from the rocker. She took the linens in hand and folded them neatly, striding to the chest of drawers to put them away.

Somehow, the sunlight seemed colder than it had moments before.

A sound of feminine laughter tore him from his reverie. Alistair turned. The door stood open where Elissa had exited the room.

He came forward and stepped through into a courtyard in a warm summer night. Candles sparkled all around like fairy lights as the sounds of tinkling laughter and clinking glass met his ears. Ladies swept the dance floor in gowns the color of jewels, dainty slippers peeking out from beneath. He walked through it all, searching for the one woman who would always stand out like a beacon.

She wore white, the simplified version of a wedding gown, still more fanciful than anything he'd seen or imagined her in. She glowed with happiness as she whirled in the arms of a stranger. Thick jealousy coiled in Alistair's gut, but another flash of white distracted him.

The gown was elaborate, covered in dainty baubles and jewels. Her eyes shone as brightly as Elissa's, her smile like that of one who held the most wonderful of secrets. She seemed familiar to Alistair.

A man followed her, taking her hand to lead her to the dance floor. She held herself like a queen, but she only had eyes for the man who accompanied her. When Alistair's eyes followed hers, realization struck. It was a young Fergus who stood before him. It was a grand wedding in Antiva that he witnessed, he understood, the wedding between Fergus and Oriana.

He looked again to Elissa, finding her in the arms of another young man. Too young for her, he thought, then realized how young she seemed. There were no lines of worry on her face nor shadows in her eyes. Just a shining moment of happiness in a life that had seen more than its share of sorrow.

At the next dance he cut in, reaching for the calloused hand that seemed contrary to the rest of her countenance. A light blush dusted her cheeks as he put a hand on her waist to lead her through the dance.

She gazed at him with a slight furrow in her brow as they began to turn, her eyes far away and deep in thought. He gazed upon her until she met his eyes, a question forming on her lips. "Have we met?" she asked, slightly puzzled.

"Yes," he said, his voice warm and low. "We have." Soon the dance ended, and Alistair found that they were alone.

The dazzling courtyard was gone, replaced with a rose garden. They walked between the rows until Alistair saw something that made him stop. He bent down and plucked it free—the rose from Lothering.

As before, he pressed it into her cupped palms. She gazed up at him in soft, open wonder, cradling the bloom as if it was the most precious of her possessions.

"Do you remember this?" he asked gently, his hands cradling her own.

She bowed her head, gazing down at the flower in silence. A tear fell upon the petals, and it began to wither away into dust. She released the ash on the wind, her hair whipping across her cheek.

She finally looked back at him, her eyes tear-filled and anguished. He came to her immediately, holding her against him. She cupped his cheek tenderly, gazing up with sorrowful eyes. "We could have had so much," she whispered.

His hands tightened. "We will," he promised, but it rang far too hollow.

She tucked her head against him, her ragged breaths coming slower with each moment that ticked by.

"Ready to go?" Alistair asked quietly, unable to stop his heart aching. Elissa nodded against his breastplate.

A mist seemed to rise, obscuring the garden of roses and all else around him. Alistair's arms were empty. A moment later he felt a familiar pull upon him. Alistair closed his eyes and let out a breath, and began to fade away.

…


End file.
